rejected on valentine's day

"this is my bribing technique," i say as i hand the guy behind the counter a plastic cartridge of valentine decorated cookies.

"...what do you need...."

i lay down the trash bags - not one, but two - that contained my coat inside. i take a deep breath and close my eyes. "there is puke all over this coat."

he starts to take the bag. "no-no," i say, "look at it first, and tell me if you can clean it." this being the second try at a cleaners that day, i want to make sure it's do-able. ...or "clean-able".

he opens the bag, and the stale aroma of puke comes exploding out. [sort of like walking into a hollister unprepared - you're immediately gasping for air. it's like you're drowning in the fumes of an 8th grade boys locker room mixed with hairspray and formaldehyde. being in that place is not safe without a gas mask. ...they're probably trying to get all those little teeny boppers high to increase revenue.]

he sighs as he looks up and down my puke stained coat. it actually kind of looks like someone dipped it in a bathtub full of puke. "i'll have to clean it a couple times, and hopefully it will look the same as it did before...and i'm gonna have to charge you $18."

"that's fine! anything you can do!"

he gives me my slip, and as i'm walking out i turn around and exclaim,"happy valentine's day!!"

...

happy valentine's day. let's rewind.

i had a wine party.

yeah... you already know where this is going. while the party was a success, the after party events led to - you guessed it - my puke stained coat. i let my already pretty drunk friend borrow my coat as we ventured to the neighborhood bar, where she proceeded to take shots. how many? one would have been too many. i decided we should leave the bar at the point in the night when i'm carrying her. poor timing on my part....

on the way home there are multiple pit stops. fortunately, no puke ended up in my car. unfortunately, all puke ended up on my coat.

since the puke didn't stop once we hit home -in fact, my other sober, helpful friend tells me that at one point, a whole strawberry emerged- i had other pleasantries to attend to: hair holding, water feeding a limp head (which, by the way, it really freaks me out how really drunk people have no control over their neck - because that is one thing i do not want to be responsible for breaking), sheet covering the couch, meticulous trash can placement next to couch, etc. meaning: no time to wipe puke paste and chunks off coat. puke paste that by morning time, has hardened into an almost glossy frosting all down the front of my coat. and let me tell you, this thing was a lot stronger than any potpourri could cover up. i was burning candles for days.

the lucky day i get to drop this beauty off just happens to be valentine's day. i wager that, since i'm probably going to ruin someone's day by dropping this coat off to them for cleaning, i could also make their day by bringing valentine's day cookies. cancels out, right? i mean, who doesn't love a naked baby flying around with a deadly weapon?

i approach the first dry cleaning place. "happy valentines day!" i say as i walk in. "these are for you," as i slide the cookies to the lady across the counter.

"oh th-"

"-before you thank me," i interrupt. "i have to tell you that this coat-" i pat the trash bag covered garment on the counter "...is covered in puke..."

she stares at me for a second. in the eye. then slowly opens the bag.

"i can't do this." she says.

"what." are you serious? they can reject me?

"i can't do this. i can call a friend that i work with sometimes and see if he will do it. but i can't do this." she walks over to the phone, dials, and mumbles for a few short minutes, then hangs up. "no. he says he can't do it."

fuck.

not really sure what i'm going to do, i start bagging up my coat.

"here," says the lady, "you're going to need these." and slides my cookies back to me.

bitch.

i get on my phone and google the closest dry cleaning place to me. and that is how we get to the beginning of this story. my coat survived. beautifully, actually. not even a hint of puke aroma to allude to it's shameful past.

i hope you all had a lovely valentines day. xoxoxx muahh.

dancing queen

i like to dance. especially to live music. i love it. it doesn't matter what kind of music - if there's a band, i'm dancing.

let me explain. i hired a band for my dad's 50th birthday party. it wasn't for him. it was for me.

last saturday - after a little bit of begging from my roommate adam- i met him at the jive and wail on washington ave. it was a his friend's 30th birthday party, so we were celebrating upstairs in the VIP section. i looked down and see this skinny old man- at least 75 -dancing on stage with all the girls.

"oh my gosh, look at that old man!" i say to adam.

"he's been up there all night," he tells me.

"i want to dance with him." meaning, i have to dance with him.

later when i'm talking to adam and his mom, i spot the old man on stage again. alone.

i stop mid-conversation, "i have to go-" and run down the stairs to the stage. i climb up the stage stairs and start dancing with the old man. about 10 seconds later, out of nowhere a girl runs in front of me, blocking me from my dance partner and starts dancing. with the old man. with my old man. the bitch stole my old man.

not only would she dance with him with her back to me, every once in awhile she would turn around to face me with a smug little smirk on her face as if to say "ha-ha!" oh, she knew what she did. and it took everything in me not to push her right off the stage.

when the song was over, i stomped back up to VIP. "did you see that bitch steal my man!?"

"yeah, i really thought you were gonna punch her."

"i am so pissed right now," i say as adam and his mom laugh. i pout until we leave for the next bar.

we end up at dubliners- and since it's saturday, there's a band playing. i'm chair dancing in my seat (something i'm a professional at), when a guy asks me to dance.

"me? i'll dance!" i say, and get up to head to the floor.

when we get there, right away the guy is all over me. jesus... i think to myself. i mean, the guy's hands are on me, his head is in my neck, the works. and then...

"bend your kneeees, girllll!!"

um.

ok. i have no problem with a little "bump and grind" or "backing that ass up" or "getting low" or - in this case - "bending my knees" ....

but the song was wonderwall.

this guy literally wanted me to rub my ass into his crotch to oasis. i stood there for a minute, confused, and made sure what i heard was actually what i heard.

yes, yes it was. i turned and walked off the dance floor.

needless to say, it was not this dancing queen's night.

here are some pictures from better nights--

me and dad dancing to the band at his 5oth

me and scott on halloween, monster mashin'

dancing queen

inappropriate commentary

these three things together:

1. a random stranger

2. something that is a totally personal and private matter

3. them feeling the need to explain it to you

it always confuses me. probably because it takes me a year to tell even my best of friends some things. i'm a private person. i always have been.

except for one time. and this one time involved me having a mental break down. and gallons of alcohol. but the people i encounter that do this - this inappropriate outburst to a randomized population - they're sober.

at least as far as i know.

recent example:

to set the scene, i'm at guitar center. it is around 5 pm on a saturday. i'm waiting at the service counter (my guitar needed new strings and the battery to the electric box was loose - which i will pay a $10 repair fee for them to slide it back into place. $10. ten. dollars. to slide it back into place. no, i'm not still bitter. bitter would be to kind of a word.). there is a man and woman in front of me at the counter. the are about mid-40s. the man is waiting patiently while the woman receives her newly strung instrument and strums until she decides she is satisfied. they are polite to one another, but no other hints to their relationship. siblings? friends? lovers? husband and wife? ...band mates? the man takes his wallet out to pay the bill, as the woman tells a funny story about what they had done that day (not really funny. just funny to her.). then she explains that she had paid for their lunch earlier, which was why he was paying the bill now. so... dating?

she's looking from me to the repair guy the whole time. i smile politely and chime in when i have to with an "ahh" and "ohh, uh-huh". and then she says this:

"We're much better friends now since the divorce." she's referring to her and the man with her. she's referring to her and her ex-husband. her ex-husband she just spent the entire day with and who is now paying for her new strings. her ex-husband she had to divorce in order to continue a relationship with - a friendship. her ex-husband who is now her best friend. who goes to lunch with her, and plants flowers with her. who fixes the kitchen sink for her. who goes bowling with her. who drives her to the airport when she's going out of town. ok, i made most that last stuff up, but that's what was going through my head.

and she's smiling. there may have even been a "ha-ha" added to the end of her sentence. but her eyes are now searching for my reaction in panic.

i'm dumbfounded. my face is blank. uhhhh what the hell?? "yeah......," i start saying, and then a few long seconds later i add, "well, sometimes that happens...." but does it?

"ha yep," she responds. then she gets quiet, and slightly crabby with the ex-hubby/new bff (probably trying to hurry him up to get the f out of there).

....why did she just tell me that?

sudden outbursts like this only lead me to one conclusion: you feel like people are judging you, and you give a damn. and if you give a damn what people are thinking of you, that leads me to two conclusions: you don't think to highly of yourself or you're feeling guilty. ...or you're in high school, but this obviously wasn't the case here.

maybe the reason she said this to me was because she just likes to share. but maybe she said this because she wasn't to confident in her current situation. and honestly, it sounds kind of weird to me - so maybe she shouldn't be.

you smell like valencia

i'm a strong believer in the whole "things happen for a reason" bit. but i'm also a strong believer in "things happen because you were a dumbass and did something stupid" bit. the important thing is you learn from it.

for example....

[now, if you're my friend, chances are you've heard this story. but if you're my friend, chances are that you will enjoy hearing it again.]

once upon a time (a time i like to call sophomore year of college), a young dame had her heart set on an unattainable love... or in other words, i had a huge crush on my physics TA. he was an aerospace engineering junior, a swimmer, spoke fluent spanish.... ok, he was mexican. it was a weird time for me. i was young.

besides, it was not a bad thing to be smitten with the teacher's assistant who was grading your lab. for our lab reports, most people wrote one page lab summaries like good students. i was writing a one page letter to my crush. contents are confidential.

just kidding they were never dirty. he was shy and nerdy and would be really embarassed.

one night, the opportunity came when i was invited over to his apartment to have a drink before we both met up with our friends at separate parties. i was a nervous wreck. and my under 21 ass didn't have any alcohol.

"do you have any alcohol??" i desperately ask my then-roommate, melissa. i couldn't be the girl that goes over, drinks all the guy's beer, then leaves (and when i say "all the guy's beer", i mean all. i literally would've probably ended up drinking all his beer. my dad doesn't call me the professional on accident). it was out of the question. that was a typical uncool girl move and i was not your typical uncool girl. i was your untypical cool girl. plus i was so nervous i needed a shot before i walked over there.

"um, i have this." she holds up and 75% full 5th of captain morgan.

i look her dead in the eye. "can i have that?"

"yeah, sure." and i took the bottle from her hand.

i get to his apartment and just as he was about to offer me a beer, i pull out the 5th.

...looking back, he probably thought i was an alcoholic. ...and looking forward, he probably still does.

"oh.. you have your own."

"well, i didn't want to drink all your beer. i mean, we're friends."

"no, that's cool. i'm just used to girls drinking all my beer."

haha!! typical uncool girl, 0 - untypical cool girl, 1. i got this.

it doesn't take long for me to get 10 times more hammered than him.

somehow we start talking about exercise, and he tells me he does yoga.

"psshhaaaaaa, you mean you like take a class??" my very drunk self asks both mockingly and truly curious.

"no, i have it on podcast on my computer."

"you mean, you do it in there?? in your room?" i say pointing to the door behind me on the couch.

"yeah...."

just like i had to my roommate melissa, i lean forward and look him dead in the eye. only this time i wasn't asking a question. "we're doing yoga. right now."

now when i said we, i meant we. but it wasn't we. it was me. by myself. drunk. doing yoga. on the bedroom floor of my crush. my crush who was also my physics TA. he rolled out a mat, turned on the podcast and watched while i went to work.

now. what i felt i looked like was this:

or this
or this
what i actually looked like was probably more like one of these girls:

needless to say, our relationship didn't move much further past that night. yet, surprisingly, i'd still receive a text or facebook message from him every now and then. ...must have done something right...

it's been about 3 years now. he went to grad school and has returned to st. louis. i agreed to meet with him and catch up. now, remember, i hadn't hung out with him since that infamous night.

when he shows up at the bar and sits down, it's not minutes before he asks, "remember when you did yoga in my room?"

"seriously. all my friends know about that." i say back.

and now the world wide web does too.

we reminisce on lab and life. he asks about my job and when i explain to him exactly what i do and how exactly my machines work (because i know he'll understand), he just smiles.

"you have no idea how proud i am right now. look at you! talking physics!"

later in the night, i say to him, "i'm going to tell you something that is going to sound really weird."

"ok..." he says cautiously

"you smell like valencia."

"like, the city in spain?"

"yes."

well, he did. another point for the untypical cool girl.

sh*t my roommates say

happy new year kids. i hope this year is all you hope and dream for.

so as some of you may know, about 4 months ago i moved out on my own back into the city. well, not exactly on my own. with 4 others. specifically, 3 guys and 1 girl. needless to say, some entertaining conversation has gone on. i'll enlighten you.

on knee problems

(upon relatively just meeting my roommate scott, i tell him about my knee problems)

me - "i'm a runner, but they really hurt when i drive. they really hurt right now."

scott - "maybe you shouldn't spend so much time on your knees."

shocked at his implication with the little time we had spent together thus far, my jaw drops and i turn to look at him. and that's when i decided-

me - "...i like you."

on neighbors

kylie - "they seem kind of older."

me - "oh, no."

k - "well, not that old."

me - "like, they would have kids?"

k - "like, they would have grandkids."

me - "that's old."

k - "when i think old, i think of like, renal failure. this guy looked like he could have gone for a jog."

on big butts

kylie - "this is why i can't wear skinny jeans. my ass just falls right out of them."

adam - "you do have a big ass, just saying."

me - "wow."

adam - "i mean, it's seriously big."

me - "again. wow."

kylie - "yeah. that's why it's hard to find jeans that fit. i've actually considered buying a pair of apple bottom jeans."

me - "have you also considered buying a pair of boots with the fur?"

on fetishes

kylie - "you get excited about christmas the way we get excited about the antique roadshow."

me - "well you guys can watch that while i go wrap christmas presents. that's my ....forte (at the same time as)--"

scott - "--fetish?"

me - "yes, i have a christmas wrapping fetish."

scott - "(mockingly) oh, i get so wet when christmas wrapping!"

kylie - "not a sexual fetish, you perv."

me - "yeah, not all fetishes are sexual."

scott - "the good ones are..."

on icthys

scott - "look at that piece of junk." (referring to beat up car next to us in the parking lot)

me - "i thought it was nice."

scott - "it's even got a little jesus fish."

me - "aww."

scott - ''jesus isn't saving that car."

me - "bada boom bada bing."

mike - "it has many bada bings."

scott - "bada bing eerrrr crash ahhhhhh!!!"

on baked goods

me - "they're hot. i just took them out of the oven." (ignoring me, mike grabs a muffin and stuffs the entire thing into his mouth."

mike - "hauuuhhfffffff hauuuhhhfffff mmmhauff good hauuhhfff."

me - "you can't even taste it right now, can you."

mike - "no, it's good!"

a half hour later when he eats another--

mike - "mmmhh, these really are good!!"

me - "jesus christ."

on choosing the appropriate icing

me - "mike, kaylin says you need cream cheese or caramel icing for butter pecan cake. not vanilla."

scott - "pshhh who you think knows more about icing, mike or some chick who hooked up with matt jackson?" [kaylin, i defended your honor!!]

you may not understand that last one. just laugh. more to come i'm sure.

me and my only other girl roommate, kylie>>

so i don't have a picture with all of the roommates, but here's pretty close. me and the boys - scott, adam, and mike. please ignore that i look highly intoxicated. it was the first drink i swear.

me and michael>>